


Language Arts

by caffeinekitty



Category: Free!
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Smut, Threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-17
Updated: 2013-11-17
Packaged: 2018-01-01 19:55:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1047937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caffeinekitty/pseuds/caffeinekitty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rin's good at English; Makoto and Haruka need a little help. Their tutoring session, however, turns into an altogether different experiment in alternative means of communication.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Language Arts

**Author's Note:**

> My Makoto Birthday Fanworks Exchange fic for Eve -- hope you enjoy!

"Okay, so what about… this?"

"‘Cup’."

Said cup cast a long shadow as the late afternoon sun slanted into Haruka’s living room.

"And that?"

Following where Haruka’s index finger pointed, Rin’s sigh was a little weary. "When the hell is that ever gonna come up on a test?"

"It might. It could be a test about art."

Rin sighed again. "‘Sketch pad’."

Makoto pointed at the sparse patch of actual furniture that poked through the stacked and scattered textbooks, and the curled sawdust detritus of the Iwatobi-chan carving Haruka had started on when he’d begun zoning out of the lesson.

"This?"

"‘Table’."

Haruka glanced at him, as though that answer had been wholly unacceptable. "What if it was winter?"

"Oh, that’s right huh?" Makoto tilted his head. "It’d be a kotatsu then."

"Seriously?" Rin regarded them sceptically. "I don’t know… ‘heated table’?"

"There’s no English word for kotatsu?"

"Who the hell cares about that? Why are you letting him have a damn kotatsu, Makoto?! He’ll fall asleep in the bath and burn the fricking street down!"

"Ahaha, well it’s not exactly ‘letting’ him…"

"Makoto."

"And Haru’s actually really responsible! There was only that one thing with the frying pan—"

" _Makoto._ "

"—and the mackerel, but he had it all totally under control." As Haruka’s displeased stare bore into his side, Makoto nodded resolutely. "Totally. He didn’t even tell me about it. I only asked because the next day his school uniform smelled like smoke, so—"

"I told you, I was making smoked mackerel."

"…I don’t think that’s how you make smoked mackerel, Haru."

Rin looked pained as he watched the exchange. "And you two think that sucking at English is the worst of your problems?"

Makoto rubbed the back of his neck and offered an apologetic little laugh. "A-ah, well…"

"Shit, teaching Nagisa wasn’t as annoying as dealing with you two…" The redhead folded his arms across his chest. "At least he _wanted_ to learn."

"We want to learn." Makoto nodded enthusiastically, gripping Haruka’s wrist just out of Rin’s line of sight under the table to keep him from going for the carving tools again. "Really."

"I don’t need it," Haruka said. "Water doesn’t speak English."

When both Rin and Makoto stared at him with matching ‘not sure if actually serious’ expressions, the corners of Haruka’s mouth twitched, just a little.

"Don’t know what’s worse," Rin muttered, shaking his head, "that he says weird crap like that in the first place or that we _believe_ him."

Makoto let out a long-suffering sigh. "Ah…"

If nothing else, the marks they’d gotten on their last English quiz dictated that Makoto and Haruka most certainly needed some extra lessons. But while it was true that it was neither his nor Haru’s strongest subject, he’d be lying if he said there was no ulterior motive at all.

Watching Rin’s determination was always inspiring, but listening to how seriously he took the words and the pronunciation, well…

_If we told him it was cute, he’d never do it again._

That didn’t quite cancel out the fact that it _was_. And neither did remembering _why_ he was so good at the subject quite cancel out the awareness that there were still things about the last five years that neither of them knew about.

Rin still didn’t talk about his time away much, save for the occasional non sequitur when something reminded him. Haruka would never ask, so any gentle probing on the subject was left to Makoto. Not that he knew where to start, or even whether it would be welcome; when Rin wanted to tell them about it, he would.

It was still a little fragile sometimes, this hesitancy. Like learning a new language where you were never quite sure if you said what you intended, or inadvertently insulted someone’s mother. He still felt lost in translation most of the time, forgetting that reading taciturn Haruka was as ingrained and involuntary as breathing, or that not everyone might read between the lines of Rin’s frustration.

And sometimes, when he caught Haru watching him with that peaceful, content expression, or when something made Rin laugh that nose-wrinkling, unselfconscious laugh and sling an arm around his shoulder like he really needed to be in on the joke, it was almost as though the past five years hadn’t happened.

That it had happened only bothered him when he thought about his friends hurting.

Or when he thought of how many afternoons like this one they’d missed.

"What about this?"

He thought they’d exhausted pretty much every inanimate object in the room, but stood corrected when Haruka held out one of the Iwatobi-chan carvings with a serious, solemn look.

Rin stared back, deadpan. "‘Creepy’."

Haruka glanced to the side, chin raised slightly. "It’s _artistic_."

They’d lost track of how many of the figures Haru had tried palming off on Rin since they started hanging out together again, zoning in on a brand new unsuspecting victim. According to Rin, the main victim had been his roommate, who’d had to miss training at least once after accidentally stepping on one. Whether Nitori had missed training because of the Iwatobi-inflicted injury, or because he’d been terrified of incurring Rin’s wrath for attempting to damage the nigh-on indestructible carvings, Makoto didn’t even want to guess. He already spent an ungodly amount of his time expecting Rin’s next text to read: "Got expelled for hoarding creepy carved idols of a rival school. They think I’m a spy. Need to transfer. Send help."

As the warm afternoon light crept higher along the walls, illuminating the shelves across the room, the gleam glinted off the one nigh-on indestructible thing Rin had palmed off on them instead.

Makoto smiled, tilting his head. "What about that?"

Something shifted in Rin’s eyes as he followed the gaze to its source. It wasn’t quite affectionate, not yet, but it was no longer the bitterness it had been at their first reunion. Lately, it was more reminiscent of the thing Makoto saw in Haruka’s eyes and felt in his own: nostalgia.

"‘Trophy’," Rin said.

Haruka shook his head, his gaze slightly off track, focused instead on the small frame just to the side of the trophy. "That’s ‘team’, right?"

Makoto smiled. "Rin was always good at English, huh? Because he taught us that a long time ago."

"Mm."

For a moment, Rin just veered between Haruka’s shameless nonchalance and Makoto’s indulgent amusement, a muscle in his jaw working before he looked away, the faintest slash of red on his cheeks almost blending into the messy tips of his hair.

"…you guys are fucking embarrassing."

Maybe they were, but it didn’t stop Rin from turning back towards the photo, quiet for a moment. Makoto thought it might be leading up to another muttered and meandering apology for how he’d tossed aside the trophy when they met again – reassurance still wasn’t enough, and since neither Makoto nor Haruka would supply the condemnation Rin seemed to want, they’d agreed that they’d only arrange an intervention if they caught him sneaking in in the middle of the night to apologize to the trophy itself – but instead…

"You were a scrawny little shit," Rin observed, casting an assessing glance from Makoto to the photo and back again, eyes narrowing. "How did _that_ happen?"

Makoto blinked. "How did what happen?"

"He puts on muscle easily," Haruka said, leaving Makoto with the slightly surreal realization that Haru might just have answered a question that wasn’t aimed at him directly, completely of his own volition, possibly for the first time ever, and it had to be on a subject that made him incredibly flustered. Admittedly, not as flustered as he was when Haru yanked up his t-shirt to reveal his abs. "See?"

"Haru...!"

"Huh." Rin nodded approvingly. "Guess so. That’s even better than last time."

"…Rin!"

Even if he didn’t spend a good proportion of his time dressed only in a swimsuit, and even if this wasn’t the first time these two had seen more than a demure flash of skin, this was Haru’s living room. In the middle of the day. With the screen door open.

_I can see my house from here!_

"W-wait--!"

"Lemme see." With ‘wait’ clearly lost on both of them, Rin crept around to their side of the table while Haruka mercifully released the front of Makoto’s shirt, only to hoist up the back instead. "Heh, see what happens when you have proper, focused training?"

"That’s our club’s hard work. Makoto would have worked hard even without joint practices."

"No way. That comes from focusing on muscle groups, not from flopping around in outdoor pools all winter!"

"There’s nothing wrong with outdoor pools," Haruka said, and Makoto smiled weakly. _Is he defending me or insulting me?_ "And it’s because of the mackerel. It’s protein."

"Protein’s one thing. The only thing he’s gonna get from all that mackerel is mercury poisoning."

"Why are you so worried for the competition anyway?"

It wasn’t that long ago that a question like that would have ended up with no one speaking for weeks. Now, there was a familiar sort of cockiness when Rin said, "Well, when I beat you guys I wanna know I’m beating you on top form. It’s pointless otherwise."

" _If_ you beat us," Haruka said, and Makoto could imagine the look on his face as he said it just from the way Rin chuckled.

"Sure, you keep on telling yourself that. Besides… it’s in my best interest to make sure you two are in good condition. Your stamina sucked. You were always done before me." The annoyed huff was more adorable than antagonistic, but Makoto would _never_ say that out loud …probably. "It pissed me off."

"Like I said…" Makoto wasn’t sure if Haru was trying to be provocative on purpose or whether it was a happy accident, but either way he suspected that tone had the same effect on Rin as it did on him. "If you think you can beat us, then… go ahead."

There was a moment’s silence – never a good thing when these two were plotting things… or a _very_ good thing, depending on your point of view – before Haruka’s fingertip traced the strong curve of Makoto’s shoulder.

"What’s this in English?"

"‘Shoulder’," Rin said, catching onto the game immediately. Makoto whimpered.

He felt Haruka shake his head, the pad of his thumb sweeping along the edge of Makoto’s shoulder blade, digging in ever so slightly in a way that made him want to sigh as the tension diffused. "No, the muscles."

"H-Haru…"

Deliberately ignoring him, Haruka hoisted the shirt higher, and every time his fingertip brushed across skin Rin provided the commentary.

"‘Trapezius’," Rin said when Haruka’s touch brushed the centre of Makoto’s shoulder, making him shiver. Then, "‘Deltoid’," as the touch moved lower, then, "‘Teres major’. ‘Latissimus dorsi’."

In the warm quiet – or maybe Makoto was the only one feeling a little too hot – it sounded like some sort of exotic lullaby, or the names of distant constellations. The combination of the touch and the words almost felt as relaxing as a massage. He couldn’t help smiling. "As expected of someone who takes training so seriously, right?"

He heard the rustle of a shrug. "I guess. Might’ve been more motivated with this than one of those plastic anatomy guys though."

Haruka shook his head. "That’d be no good. Makoto’s scared of those."

"Haru!" In an effort to do some damage control, he twisted around to look at Rin imploringly as he shook his head. "Only when they startle me!"

"In the science classroom," Haruka added helpfully.

Wiry arms wrapped around his shoulders, and it was that grin from five years ago shining in his peripheral vision.

"Che, it’s probably just an excuse to jump you when no one’s looking."

"N-no it’s not!" Makoto protested. "It’s not, Haru, honestly…!" Then, leaning his head back slightly against Rin’s shoulder he feigned thoughtfulness. "Though you know, it might be a good idea…"

Even without any genuine force, the punch Haru landed on his bicep spoke of a deceptive kind of strength. Rin for his part just muffled his snort against Makoto’s shoulder.

"Now you’ve just made him mad. It’s okay Makoto, I’ll protect you."

Haruka looked nonplussed. "You’re so romantic. Rinrin."

"Oh!" Makoto brightened. "That’s another one. ‘Leader’, right? See, you were training us even before you knew about it."

Rin scowled. "Shut up."

"Mm," Haruka agreed, expression impassive but his eyes sparkling. "Don’t bully him Makoto. He’ll cry. Again."

"Goddammit, shut up! It was one time!"

"Twice."

"Fuck it, fine, twice!"

Makoto tilted his head. "Then that's _at least_ one time too many."

Rin turned a shade darker than his hair and glared so hard Makoto thought this might be the third time. "…Leave me alone."

"Don’t worry about it." It was difficult to twist around when Rin was trying to sulk and look away. The best Makoto could manage was to press a smiled kiss to the edge of Rin’s jaw. "We’ll protect you right back." He turned back to watch Haruka fondly. "That’s what teams do, right?"

"Tch… d-dumbass…" Rin mumbled, but the arms around his shoulders tightened a little anyway.

He wasn’t sure how they’d both gotten so close, but all of a sudden Haruka’s eyes were big and blue and bottomless, and the warm puffs of Rin’s breath against the side of his neck were measured and controlled. The overall effect was a little bit sexy and a little bit like being sized up for dinner.

It would have taken the same technology that separated two swimmers who touched the wall within a fraction of a second of the other to decide who touched him first. Haru’s lips against his mouth, Rin’s at the crook of his neck. The cool brush of soft kisses and the heated nips of sharp teeth.

He reached for both of them at the same time too, lips parting beneath Haruka's even as his hand rose to card blindly through Rin's hair. He must have missed, because just as the tip of Haruka's tongue flicked quietly against his own, a warm wet lick centred on his palm, and the playful score of teeth scraped along the edge of his finger.

"I'm telling you..." Rin said, lips and just a whisper of dangerous sharpness against the pulse point of Makoto's wrist. "No stamina."

Haruka huffed something impatient against Makoto's mouth at that, but the way he deepened the kiss was almost lazy, tongue brushing across Makoto's like a slow, undemanding tide. He was so close that those eyes were just a beautiful blue blur when Makoto curled his fingers against the nape of Haruka's neck, rising to the 'no stamina' bait even when Haru wouldn't.

The soft sound of Haruka's surprise purred against his lips as Makoto kissed him back, tasting the faint trace of the popsicle they'd shared on the walk back to the house.

It was probably mostly him, he decided, since he'd had to split two today. As far as it went, plying him with snacks wasn't bad.

Kneeling over his thigh, Haruka leaned up against him, chest pressed to Makoto's and trapping Rin's hands between them. Rin didn't seem to mind -- or at least Makoto hoped not, because otherwise the kisses and nips trailing hot and wet along the column of his throat would leave marks he'd have a hard time explaining tomorrow.

His free hand snuck around Haru's waist, curling at the small of his back. The other finally made it to Rin's hair, gripping strands too soft for the chlorine damage they must have endured. And every one of those muscles Rin had listed tensed up as he felt them both press a little closer. 

Haruka's hands framed his face, and the kiss shook with a bubble of laughter when Makoto felt his fingertips get in the way of Rin's kisses. The ensuing bite earned Rin a sharp yank on his hair, and Makoto a nip at his lower lip for finding it funny in the first place. Smiling against Haru's mouth, Makoto gentled the kiss until it was little more than the slow, velvet cling of skin on skin. Even barely touching, Haruka's heat and taste still swirled and swept around him.

There was a flush of red darkening Haruka's cheeks as they drew apart, lips glossy, eyes shining. Makoto would have pulled him back into another kiss if not for the way those eyes peered imploringly at him. Pool eyes, set at maximum intensity.

"Makoto…"

It wasn’t really resignation when he craved every second of it. Surrender, maybe. Giving in to the forces of nature and trusting you’d be safe anyway.

Smiling softly he reached up, dragging his thumb across the lingering sheen on Haru’s lower lip. "…at least close the door first?"

Haruka didn’t nod as much as he just lowered his lashes in silent agreement, leaning back and stretching out to push the screen door closed. It didn’t shut all the way; a long thin sliver of golden sunshine still spilled into the room, a vague little reminder that they were almost doing something dangerous.

Rin’s hands smoothed down Makoto’s sides, catching the hem of his rumpled shirt, and a knowing snort of amusement ruffled his hair. "Sucker."

Makoto leaned back a little. "That makes two of us."

"Heh… Then we should make it three, huh?"

Before he could even ask what that sly grin was for, Makoto found himself tugged back and off balance, his vision filled with red just before Rin's lips slanted across his own.

So different to Haruka. Makoto had been as terrified kissing Rin for the first time as he had with Haru, but at least he’d never had the added worry that Haru might eat him alive. He and Haru had fumbled into these kinds of discoveries together; it had been a warm, safe sort of embarrassment. There’d been so much they hadn’t known about this Rin, about the boy who’d carried a brash sort of confidence like an angry shield, that Makoto wondered whether someone who suddenly seemed so worldly and cynically, _bitterly_ experienced would find it a disappointment.

But he’d known, from the way Rin had looked at them both that first time, as heart-wrenchingly flustered as he was surly, and said, "Who the hell _else_ do you think I’d wanna do this stuff with…?"

The contradiction never quite went away, and neither had that powerful sense of protectiveness. Whatever Rin had been through to make his kisses start off as tentative and unconfident, whatever made him look so far away sometimes when it was him pinned between Haruka and Makoto instead…

He rarely needed to kiss Haruka with ‘you’re safe’ weaving in between every breath, every lick. It was always the other way around. But if claiming Rin’s mouth with the same sort of desperate intensity that always made him feel wanted and needed and _good enough_ drove that fleeting desolation away, then he’d do it a million times over.

Blinking, breathless, he eventually focused on Haruka watching them with the expression he usually reserved for aquatic bodies rather than the human kind.

Hands skimming up his chest beneath the t-shirt, Rin draped his legs over Makoto’s, ankles tucked behind his knees to keep him from closing them. As if he’d run away. As if he wanted to be anywhere else.

Settling between Makoto's thighs, Haruka's questioning stare and raised brow was directed at Rin. "Giving us a head start?"

"Only fair, right?"

Haruka shrugged, and if Rin wasn't pinning him down Makoto thought his hips would have arched clear off the floor when slender fingers reached for his belt. "I won't need it, though."

"Haru...!"

While Haruka unfastened his pants with a methodical slowness that on anyone else would be teasing, Rin's hands kept stroking his chest, one set of clever fingers flicking and circling his nipple while the other slid down to his abs, tickling along the edge of the shorts Haru's handiwork had just exposed. A little dazed, Makoto wondered where exactly the 'head start' part was; he was pretty sure this felt a lot more like tag teaming.

He had a height and weight advantage over both of them, so it took a moment of awkward manoeuvring for Haruka to tug Makoto's pants down past the hold Rin had on him. And it was just as difficult not to throw the redhead off completely when he jerked at Haru's touch, cool fingers on heated skin. He felt the grin as Rin nipped the back of his neck lightly in admonishment; it wasn't as though they couldn't sympathize when they both knew the way Haruka's touch felt.

Stroking him slow and purposefully, Haruka glanced up, the blue in his gaze almost electric. "What about this?"

"That?" Rin’s low chuckle was a vibration at his back. "‘Hard’?"

Haru nodded. "Mm."

"‘Hot’?"

Another nod.

Rin’s voice turned downright devilish. "Makoto’s ‘cock’?"

It sounded even more obscene murmured against his ear. The shudder let an embarrassingly needy sound escape his throat.

Hips jerking against Haruka’s touch, Makoto shook his head. "Is English supposed to sound like that…?"

He felt Rin shrug. "Only if you’re doing it right."

Between them, they were doing _everything_ right. He felt like a livewire, caught between Rin’s teeth and Haru’s hands, between warm breath and placid eyes, between wicked fingers pinching his nipples and the hot wet press of lips as Haruka knelt between his thighs and took him into his mouth.

He arched back against Rin's chest when Haruka flicked his tongue against the tip in a touch that would've been experimental except Haru was long past the point where he needed to.

"Haru…"

Now, of all times, Haru chose to be vocal, murmuring some muffled reply and making Makoto’s body tremble. The soft, wet sounds of Haruka’s mouth as it bobbed slow and purposeful turned the tremble into full-blown shaking. If he held on now he’d never, _ever_ want to let go, but the urge to tangle his fingers in silky black hair was such a tangible thing that it almost hurt to clamp his hands over his mouth instead, muffling his moans. Outside that half-closed door was the sleepy quiet of an Iwatobi afternoon; there wasn’t even a road nearby to drown out the sound, but all Makoto wanted to do was cry out Haruka’s name until he was too hoarse to breathe.

"Oi, Haru…"

"Hmm?"

_No, don’t make him talk…!_

"Don’t you think he’s too quiet."

_No, quiet is good, right Haru? Quiet is—_

"Ah… mmm," Haruka agreed, stroking Makoto in a loose fist as he pulled back with a sloppy sounding sigh. Seeing the glistening thread of saliva that kissed Haru’s lips and the tip of his cock for a too-brief and too-long second had Makoto pressing his palms even more firmly against his mouth. Haruka’s brows furrowed slightly when he noticed. "Makoto. Don’t do that."

"But someone migh—nnn!"

His coordination followed his voice out the door when Haruka licked him, keeping him trapped between cool fingers and hot tongue as gently sucking kisses trailed along the underside of his cock. When the lights stopped dancing in his vision he stared down unfocusedly at the same displeased, wounded look he faced whenever he stopped Haru jumping into aquariums, fountains, ornamental ponds…

Wondering who truly gave in to whom, he threaded wobbly fingers through Haruka’s hair, only letting himself touch because it was much too dangerous to cling, and let the other hand drop limply to his side.

"Sorry…"

Satisfied, Haru’s lashes fluttered shut again as he settled between Makoto’s spread thighs again, taking in as much of his shaft as he could. Now and then there’d be the faint, startling scrape of teeth, or a reflexive swallow that made Haru suck harder for a mind-numbing second. Makoto did his best not to thrust too roughly against the soft lips stretched around him; the touch of Haru’s lips at all was already beyond anything he’d expected.

Sweat trickled down Makoto’s back, his heart thumping hard against Rin’s chest. At least he _thought_ it was his own; every time Haruka pushed him into the cradle of the redhead’s thighs it was impossible to miss the growing hardness that kept nudging Makoto in the small of the back, or the way Rin’s breathing became disordered.

And since sometimes, just _watching_ Haru was almost as good as touching him, well…

Haruka would probably take it better under these circumstances though. Whenever he caught Makoto or Rin – or anyone else within a swimming pool’s radius – watching him swim, it earned them a very different expression to the one peering up now from beneath thick, sooty lashes. Meeting that coolly sensuous gaze lashed heat down Makoto’s spine, setting every nerve on fire as it went.

Even his rucked-up shirt felt too hot on his skin when Rin's palm smoothed over his abs, his stomach, fingertips teasing the base of his shaft and spreading the stray streaks of saliva. Makoto's thighs jerked, trying to draw in on himself, but Rin and Haruka wouldn't let him close his legs, wouldn’t let him cover himself up, wouldn’t let him stifle his cries.

"W-wait--"

"‘Stamina’," Rin said, in heavily emphasised English, and even that most innocuous of words made Makoto groan.

"Mmmm," Haruka agreed, the vibration travelling from the slow, hot sweeps of his tongue to the tips of Rin's fingers as they circled his base, twisting at counterpoint to the velvety drag of Haru’s mouth.

"Ah..!"

"You suck at this, y’know."

"At what…?"

The tip of Rin’s tongue traced the shell of his ear just as Haruka pressed unerringly against his slit, sliding just a little too slickly for it all to be saliva. If he wasn’t already sitting down, Makoto’s knees would have buckled at that.

"At letting other people take care of you."

Closing his eyes with a breathy laugh, catching the ghost-glimpse of big magenta eyes watching him lie through his teeth and say he was fine, he was keeping it together, he wasn’t falling apart at all, Makoto shook his head slightly. "Maybe."

Whenever they turned the focus onto him, it always felt like being at the mercy of two highly skilled predators. Their means and methods might’ve been very different, but their single-mindedness was still scarily similar.

They knew when to back off, though, right at the point where Makoto still had enough wherewithal left to hold on. He still whined softly at the loss of contact as Rin let him go, and Haruka pulled back, looking up at him with lust-dark eyes and wiping his lower lip with the back of his hand.

"Haru…"

Haruka slid up against him in a gesture so distractingly slinky that all it was missing was a splash and the silvery flick of a tail. Another exchange of glances went on over Makoto's shoulder before Haruka said, "Makoto's bag."

"Huh? My bag? What's in my--mmmph!"

Haruka kissed him, deep and brooking no argument. Past the instinctive groan, Makoto could hear Rin rummaging around in the pockets of his school bag.

"If it makes you feel any better," Rin said, "I'd prefer it he stashed lube in my backpack than more of those fucking creepy birds..."

"It’s more convenient," Haru said, staying close enough that every syllable brushed Makoto’s lips.

"A-ah, it wouldn't be very convenient if someone found it and I got suspended..."

Haruka shrugged, the drop of his shoulder inclining in Rin's direction. "But he loses things all the time. He lost three Iwatobi-chans this week."

"I _try_ to lose things when they're that fucking creepy," Rin muttered, setting the retrieved items on the table. "I'd rather people thought I was a pervert, seriously..."

"P-pervert?"

"Ah, relax. No one will think you're carrying around enough stuff for all three of us."

"Mm. No one would look at Makoto and think he was a pervert."

"W-wait, it's not even my lube...!"

"You do him without lube?" Rin whistled low. "Shit, you really _are_ a perv."

Makoto whimpered, burying his face in his hands. "You two're mean... "

Though considering that he was the one half-dressed, half-hard, and apparently had enough supplies mixed in with his text books to rival a small pharmacy…

Rin bumped his shoulder, and Haruka leaned up to brush a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "We like Makoto even if he is a pervert."  
  
"Haru~!"  
  
His protests fell on deaf -- or maybe just preoccupied -- ears. At some point in the conversation they’d managed to switch on him without him noticing. Rin’s fingers carded through his hair, gripping tight and hauling him down into a kiss that was all teeth and aggressive demand and that ever-present whisper of uncertainty. Makoto didn’t know how to chase that away, or how to say nothing could push them away; all he knew to do was brush his fingers against Rin’s cheek and nod against the kiss.

At some point in the conversation they’d managed to switch on him without him noticing. Rin’s fingers carded through his hair, gripping tight and hauling him down into a kiss that was all teeth and aggressive demand and that ever-present whisper of uncertainty. Makoto didn’t know how to chase that away, or how to say nothing could push them away; all he knew to do was brush his fingers against Rin’s cheek and nod against the kiss.

It was Haru’s lips at the back of his neck this time, still feeling thrillingly warm and wet from their previous activities. Slender fingers stroked down his sides, unhurriedly tracing the path of defined muscle from his hips to the small of his back in a touch that felt startlingly possessive and soothingly careful all at once.

"Because Makoto spooks easily," Haru murmured against his skin even though Makoto had no idea what he’d done to give that thought away. Laughing a little, he smiled into the kiss.

Not at this; this was a kind of scary he welcomed.

Their uniforms – or at least most of them -- ended up in a tangled pile just beneath the shelf where the trophy and the photograph lived, a mess of tan and white and green. The diffused light from the screen door made their skin glow with a faint sheen of sweat, the narrow glints of sunshine catching on the dips and valleys of muscle and tan-lines.

It was funny how much difference that thin layer of swimsuit made; there shouldn’t have been that much difference between almost-naked and naked, but at times like this he thought that Haru and Rin were really beautiful. Makoto ducked his head slightly, feeling a little as though he was too awkward in comparison, taking up too much space.

Rin sprawled beneath him, hair fanning out against the worn-soft mats. Haru pressed against Makoto’s side, body a predictable contrast between warm skin and smooth fabric.

Half kneeling over Rin, Makoto swept a hand down the redhead’s side, quietly coaxing him to bend one knee up. Behind him Haruka’s kisses worked an idle, aimless path along his shoulder blade to that point just where shoulder met rib under his arm that Makoto hadn’t even known could be that sensitive until Haru showed him otherwise.

The same place didn’t work on Rin – they’d tried – but he did grit his teeth and curse in what Makoto and Haruka had decided was a made-up language when fingertips brushed the strongly delineated angle from the top of his hipbone down to the base of his cock.

Fingertips and other things…

Lowering his head to lick at that smooth skin just opened him up more to Haruka’s touch. It wasn't even kisses anymore, just nudges and nuzzles and warm breath sliding down his spine and a proprietary hand on the inside of his thigh, thumb marking a line along vulnerable skin.

"Makoto…"

"Ah…"

Reaching blindly for the table – and desperately relieved that he actually did pick up the lube rather than a half-carved Iwatobi-chan because he didn't think Rin would ever get over the trauma -- Makoto squeezed out a generous smear of the cool gel onto his fingers before passing the tube back to Haruka. At least Haru waited a few moments, long enough to watch Rin and Makoto kiss, long enough to watch the redhead tense and grit his teeth as the erection butting up against Makoto’s hip was enveloped by a strong, purposeful stroke.

He arched back a little when Haru’s fingers brushed against him, his grip on Rin tightening reflexively.

"O-oi…" Rin sounded a little more taken aback by the sensation than annoyed, but Makoto whined softly and nuzzled his nose against the redhead’s anyway.

"Sorry."

If anything, Rin just blushed harder, eyes wide and flustered just before he turned his head. "…idiot."

"Heh…"

An electric shiver chased up his spine as Haruka's fingers slipped in deeper, Makoto's gasps meeting Rin's groans in a hot mist of breath. His hips wouldn't stay still, not quite thrusting but instead just shaking and twitching around Haru's touch, tormenting himself with the hint of friction.

His hands shook when Rin bent one knee up, getting impatient with Makoto’s fumbling. Even though he tried to go slow, Rin pushed down against him as soon as he'd lined himself up, and he couldn’t even tell which one of them breathed a shaky moan when Makoto’s slicked-up fingers edged slowly into Rin, and Haruka’s did the same to him until Makoto felt like he was in a loop of sensation, never knowing where one flare of pleasure started and the other began.

He didn't even know if they were trying to be in sync, but every time his lips nuzzled Rin's neck, his collarbone, his chest, Haruka's would echo it along Makoto's spine, the small of his back, the flare of his hip.

"Do it already..." Rin's tugs at his hair became more impatient. "Who the fuck taught you to tease so mu--ah!"

Replacing his trembling fingers with the head of his cock, Makoto ducked his head a little ruefully, dizzy and breathless at the sudden heat wrapped around him.

"You did."

_You taught us a lot of things._

He doubted that whatever Rin was about to say would’ve been very complimentary, but either way it melted away on a groan as Makoto started to move. Careful, so as not to shake Haru off completely, he withdrew until he was barely connected to Rin at all and the body beneath his was trembling with frustration and cursing him out in some broken language Makoto barely recognized as _anything_ let alone English or Japanese.

And he’d honestly planned on pushing back in slowly – if only because slow drove Rin crazy in _both_ ways – but that was when Haru’s fingers twisted, crooked, _rubbed_ inside him and Makoto’s hips slammed forward of their own accord at the jolt of sensation.

"Shit…" Rin bucked under him, legs tightening either side of Makoto’s. "Again…"

"Rin—!"

But maybe the command hadn’t been meant for him, because it was Haru who did it again, one hand stroking down Makoto’s back as he thrust deeper with his fingers, a pressure so sweet and relentless against his prostate that Makoto didn’t know whether to feel relieved or bereft when it finally drew away.

His hips shifted restlessly as he listened to Haruka prepare himself, settling in snugly behind Makoto.

"Hold still," Rin instructed, voice a little gruff from desire and the irritation at Makoto and Haru's ineptitude, probably.

...or maybe just the desire. Makoto shuddered as Rin's hands slid down his back, holding him open for Haruka. He could barely breathe at the awareness of how intimate it was, the brush of Rin’s fingers guiding the head of Haru’s cock into him.

He stilled inside Rin as Haruka pressed deeper, slender hands on Makoto's hips to bring his body lower. The position meant Makoto had to spread his thighs a little further apart, and Rin squirmed beneath him at the change of angle, mumbling "...bastard," under his breath. Makoto couldn't tell whether that hazy, blissed-out glare was meant for him or Haruka. Or both of them. Probably both.

"Ah..." His forehead dropped against Rin's shoulder as Haruka pressed in deeper, sweat-damp hair clinging to skin and stinging his eyes. "Haru..."

There was a familiar smooth fabric pressed against the back of his thighs when Haruka was finally buried to the hilt inside him, and Makoto wasn’t sure whether it was okay to feel such an intense surge of affection when you were a skewered mess between two guys, but he felt it anyway.

"Haru…" Shakily letting go of Rin, he reached back, finding the smaller hand gripping his hip and letting their fingers link. Haruka was still, patient, waiting. Rin was most decidedly _not_ , doing near-imperceptibly wicked things with his hips as he nipped at Makoto’s jaw.

For a long, indulgent moment he just wanted to stay that way, stay wrapped up in it. But whether it was terrible stamina or just terrible need, it wasn’t long before he pushed back lightly against Haruka, glancing over his shoulder with a small smile and a nod.

"It's okay… you can move."

The rhythm was ungainly at first, but then it always had been. Rin would push and Haruka would pull and Makoto would be somewhere in the middle trying to keep up with both of them. The sort of easy grace that came so naturally in the water wasn't quite so easily attained out of it -- the humid afternoon air and the friction of sweat on skin posed a whole new challenge.

Eventually though, they found their pace. Haruka's instinct, Rin's drive and Makoto's effort yielded pretty different results when it came to this, but no less gratifying for it.

Sometimes he wondered if this was how the pool felt whenever it played receptacle for this fierce, driven back-and-forth, helpless to do anything except go with the flow.

_…it better not be._

Besides, as, well… _intense_ as they both could get, Makoto had never heard either of them mumbling hot, breathless things to the pool.

And they were so _them_ , even like this, that it made something in his chest feel awfully light.

Rin was restless beneath him, urging him on despite himself, pushing and demanding for more whenever Makoto worried that he should back off.

Haru was a constant presence at his back, a sweet, knowing pleasure deep inside him, attuned to everything he did, everything he _needed_ a moment or two before Makoto himself.

It didn’t matter what configuration of tangled limbs they wound up in, he could never quite touch enough, hold on enough. In the pool, the water somehow behaved like a conduit, binding them together. Here they had to rely on gasps and pants and shivers, on the tight cling of clumsy fingers and the erratic shift of hips. He had to trust that Haruka’s quiet passion translated to Rin with the way every quickening thrust made Makoto shiver. He had to believe that Haru could see that the Rin who arched up beneath them when Makoto stroked him was _their_ Rin again, and it didn’t matter how many times any of them shattered to pieces, there would always be someone to put them back together again.

And he hoped that they both knew what the meant to him by how easily, how completely they made him fall apart.

The mats of Haru's living room floor scraped against his knees as he was caught up between them, spine bowed. He twisted around, feeling Rin's teeth latch onto his collarbone as Haru's tongue found his in a messy kiss that lapped at his mouth as Makoto breathed, "Haru… Rin…" desperate and helpless and a little mortified that he came before either of them.

Rin tensed under him, streaks of moisture splashing Makoto's fingers a few moments later, so at least he'd be spared another lecture on stamina.

_…though I sort of don’t mind the practical part of it._

Haru outlasted them both, only coming with a quiet mutter of "Makoto…" when both boys beneath him were already bonelessly trembling with the aftershocks of orgasm. Another sweet, languid jolt of pleasure reverberated through Makoto at the way Haruka clutched at him, shuddering, and warm wet heat pooled deep inside him.

_Haru…_

In the quiet stillness that followed, punctuated only by the muted hush of their breathing as it steadied, Makoto realized, blearily and belated, that they were still on Haru’s living room floor. And it was a lot of things, but it wasn’t all that comfortable; any second now, Rin was going to let go and roll over and impale himself on Iwatobi-chan’s beak, and Haru was going to decide that mackerel was the ideal post-sex snack…

Getting up didn’t sound too enticing. Neither did moving much. So the obvious solution was to nuzzle back against Haruka and to keep Rin pressed close so that none of them would need to go anywhere. At least for a little while. At least for now.

Eventually it was Rin who broke the silence with a languid stretch like a basking big cat, and a satisfied groan of, "…shit."

"What’s that in English?"

He’d expected another smack to the shoulder but Rin looked too boneless to care. A lazy hand brushed through Makoto’s hair instead. "Shut up. And I’m not teaching you two anymore. You get distracted way too easily."

"Then stop being so distract _ing_." Haruka hummed contemplatively against the nape of Makoto’s neck, arms looping around his waist in a gesture that was half-contentment and half-possessive. "Besides… we don’t need English. Just the water," and then, quietly, muffled against the heat of Makoto’s skin, "and this."

Rin sighed, defeated. "Just make sure you’ve graduated by the Olympics, okay? Or I’m leaving your illiterate asses here and you can’t come with me."

"Oh! ‘Olympics’," Makoto said, "that’s another one!"

"So is ‘you’re fucking lucky you’re cute, Makoto’."

"…huh?"

"Never mind."

Watching the last of the afternoon sunshine fade from the shelf, Makoto smiled to himself; maybe there was at least one language everyone understood.


End file.
